


in here the scent of you stains the sheets with memory and lust

by vitiasolus



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon, Frottage, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitiasolus/pseuds/vitiasolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenge from a friend who gave me the prompt:<br/><i>If you knew you had a day left to live, how would you spend it?</i></p>
<p>But I tweaked it a little to satisfy my pre-serum Steve/Bucky needs. Which a v important thing to fulfill lest I blow up.</p>
<p>Title taken from For Wanting You by Marianne Faithfull</p>
            </blockquote>





	in here the scent of you stains the sheets with memory and lust

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, I apologize to anyone whose read this these past three years. Here's a marginally better revision/edit three years too late [cries].  
> 

Bucky couldn't find it in himself to deny that he was proud as hell for himself; such a foreign feeling coming from him of all people, but _God_ he relished it like it was the last god damn thing he would ever feel. (And if everything went wrong, it could be. Would he die prideful and arrogant? He hoped not. He wouldn't think about it though, not now.) Because he was going to make something of himself, he was going to be _something_. So he walked, strolled down the way, lips pressed tightly together suppressing a little smirk, arms swinging at his sides. He probably looked like an idiot, pacing to some tune only he knew. The stiff brown uniform itched and irritated underneath the hot summer sun, but he paid it no heed and continued to walk, head held high and back straight. The old men who used to give him suspicious glances between puffs of yellowing cigarettes now looked at him with some kind of misplaced pride, like he was someone they could be proud of, someone they could chat about to their warbling friends and pretend they knew him and not his antics.

_Oh, yeah James? Good kid, enlisted and left the other day. Always knew he'd do great._

He smiled thinly and gave them curt nods to which they returned with stained smiles and tipped hats. He jogged up dusty stairs to his room stopping occasionally to talk to a neighbor about his impending departure and to wink at that dame that was inordinately fond of Steve who lived on the third floor. He breathed heavily through pursed lips when he finally reached his apartment and dropped his proud swagger. He rolled his eyes when he heard tiny sniffles and coughs from inside and unlocked the door making sure to make a racket.

"Hey Stevie," he announced. " I'm home."

A small head popped out from behind their bedroom door briefly and grinned warmly at him before sniffling.

"Hey Buc-," Steve stopped short and his eyes widened at the sight of him wincing, decked out in full uniform.

"Bucky," he whispered and he stepped out of the room, wrapped in that ratty blue blanket they had since they were kids, pretending it was a giant fort that would protect them from the hurts of the world.

Bucky watched his heart breaking a little as Steve tried to stifle body shaking coughs in his little hands and he looked away biting his lip.

"When?" Steve asked, voice raspy and pretty blue eyes refusing to look at him; Bucky was okay with that, he couldn't face Steve either.

Bucky opted to look at the space above that painfully thin shoulder and took a steadying breath before answering. He was scared, scared of tiny, fragile Steve who weighed no more than a hundred pounds. He was afraid of his best friend, his _everything_ , and how fucked up was that? How fucked up was _he_ for not even having the decency to admitting it the moment he knew?

"Tomorrow."

The silence that lingered after was suffocating and Bucky swore his lungs were as broken as his heart.

"I- I," Steve stopped, teeth furrowing at his bottom lip. "Why couldn't you just tell me? I would have understood."

Steve's quiet condemnation hurt Bucky more than anything. His throat began to burn with the effort of suppressing back explanations and comforting words, but nothing spilled from his lips. He couldn't shove words of love towards Steve and not feel like the biggest jackass when all he was going to do was leave the next day. He couldn't promise the stars, that he'd come back safe and whole when he knew better than that. That when came back, if at all, he wouldn't be unscathed and unharmed. He might not even be _Bucky_ anymore and he couldn't do that to him. Because Steve didn't deserve that, he deserved someone who loved wholeheartedly, someone honest and _better_ , better than Bucky ever was or could be. Steve saw it all play out on his conflicted face and sighed, like it was an inconvenience and not like both their hearts were shattered into spiderwebs on the ground. He backed into their bedroom - no, that wasn't right, that cramped (beautiful beautiful beautiful room, filled with love and words that would never escape the confines of those four walls) space was no longer his after tomorrow - and shut it with a quiet click.

Bucky was sure that this was what it was to be like the worst human being on the planet when he heard those quiet sniffles starting up once again. He groaned loudly, the first noise he made since he confessed, and collapsed against the wall and leaned his head against the thin bedroom door. He took of the hat he was so proud of have on, not five minutes ago, and threw it on the ground with a scoff of disgust. How could be proud when all he did was mess up the last good thing he had in his life? He closed his eyes and tried to send out his fervent apologies through the cheap wood, mentally praying that Steve would understand why he was doing this, why Bucky was leaving him. He didn't want to, God, he didn't want to. But something inside of him said that he had to do it, if some kind of debt to his fallen father or for the good of the country. Maybe one of Stevie's long winded speeches about enlisting actually clicked something on in his brain. Whatever it was, he made his decision and this was his punishment. Bucky didn't know how long he was kneeling there against that door with the impending dread of leaving come morning crawling up his throat. The muggy afternoon sun was asleep and the moon was aloft in a purple ink sky when he got up, creaking knees and aching back.

He could hear Steve sleeping, wheezing breaths that rattled his thin little chest and he knew at that moment that he couldn't leave like this. He opened the door carefully, not wanting to wake Steve up and stopped, just staring and taking in what could be the last time he was going to watch Steve sleep. Christ, this is what he would miss the most. His eyes burned and the fear that settled his throat threatened to make an appearance. Bucky resisted the urge to gather up Steve in his arms and hold him like he always did and crouched down just staring at Steve's face trying to memorize every last feature.

He didn't know what he would miss the most: the way dark lashes fanned across thin cheeks, spotted with tiny freckles that no one ever saw because no one ever got as close as Bucky did. Maybe the way his bird thin fingers would clench and bunch up his blanket when a coughing fit would overtake him, the way pink parted lips would purse ever so slightly even in his sleep, like he was dreaming he was in another fight waiting for Bucky to swoop in and save his ass again. Bucky snorted to himself, like he ever needed Bucky for that - for all the mass and height the Steve was missing, he was scrappy and willing to bite. He brushed away golden hair from Steve's forehead and stared at his eyelids, wishing they'd slide open and let Bucky see those baby blues again. The thought of seeing those eyes, large and teary, eyelashes clinging together, especially wet when Bucky would bite down on that delicate collar bone, would fuel a thousand fantasies. And Lord almighty, the way he would wrinkle his nose before he woke up; even in his sleepy state, without fail those skinny arms would try and wrap around Bucky's broader chest trying to get as close as possible. Being without Steve was going to be the hardest thing Bucky was ever going to go through.

Bucky traced Steve's jawline with his eyes wanting to mark that pretty expanse of skin with bruises and laced his fingers with Steve's dangling hand. He pressed a long kiss on his forehead before pressing chastely against smaller lips. There was a snuffle and a huff that Bucky stifled a laugh at before bleary eyes opened and stared uncomprehending at him for a moment.

"Hi," Bucky whispered pulling back a little, chin propped up on the edge of the bed.

"Hello to you too," Steve whispered back.

He tugged his fingers out of Bucky's slowly and raised it to cup his cheek. Bucky wanted to cry as he leaned against that warm palm, pressing another delicate kiss at the center of his hand. He watched, out of the corner of his eye as Steve contemplated for a moment before biting at his bottom lip and ducking his head before peeking through dark lashes.

"Come to bed?"

Bucky smiled broadly, if not with a hint of bitterness and finality knowing that before he went away for what could possibly be forever, that at least he was forgiven. He shed his jacket while Steve sat up, wrapping his arms around knobby knees and letting the blanket pooled around his waist. He crawled into the creaky bed and fulfilled that visceral need to gather Steve into his arms, depositing him onto his lap with a content sigh. For the longest time they both just sat clinging to each other when Steve turned slightly and straddled Bucky's waist and loped his arms around Bucky's neck.

"I'm going to miss you. Promise me you'll write every day." Steve whispered in between kisses along Bucky's jaw.

Bucky gripped one hand onto diminutive hips and slipped the other underneath Steve's shirt rubbing along his spine.

"Every day doll, I promise." He anticipated more than saw the red flush that spread on Steve's cheeks and smirked when Steve tried to kiss him quiet.

"Don't call me that," he murmured against Bucky's lips, eyes fluttering closed as he pushed his back into Bucky's hand.

"Why not?" Bucky questioned, unbuttoning his stiff, starched shirt and pushing Steve's shirt up to thumb at his chest.

"Only dames are called 'doll'. Dames and little girls."

Bucky gasped scandalized and peppered small kisses, nips and sucks onto Steve's collar bone relishing in the reedy, shaky moan he received.

"You mean you aren't a girl?!" he asked with exaggerated flourish. "You lying little-"

Steve shoved him down onto the bed and kissed him quiet again, face flushed a pretty pink. Insistent fingers tugged at his pants and he shimmied out of trousers and underwear, completely naked before he straddled a half-naked Bucky. Bucky's hands reached up and went back to rubbing at his chest and he grinned when Steve gave needy stilted moans when his thumbs stroked at quickly pebbling nipples. Bucky bit down on his lip to stop from groaning out embarrassingly loud, at the gorgeous picture Steve made. He just about popped out of his trousers when Steve opened his eyes, baby blues darkened and hooded, and slowly grinded down on Bucky's lap with a grace and sultriness that Bucky hadn't seen before. He almost wanted to stay that way and let Steve have his way with him, but decided against it and grasped him by his tiny waist and flipped their positions with a heady smirk.

“So eager,” Bucky groaned in his ear before swallowing a keening gasp.

“Clothes. Off.” panted Steve who grasped at his own half hard cock pumping languidly.

Bucky groaned out loud this time; demanding Steve was just about the sexiest thing he had ever seen and he almost couldn't take it. He practically ripped his pants off in his excited haste and the first touch of naked skin against naked skin was so electrifying and _perfect_ that he wanted to sob. They slotted against each other so fittingly that it seemed like Steve was made to fit in the circle of his arms. Bucky rutted with abandon, biting sharply at that gorgeous neck that Steve cried out a moan that he usually withheld, in fear that their neighbors would hear. Thin legs wrapped around his hips, bringing them closer together, flesh melding with flesh. The air was heady and heavy with the sounds of their cries and sticky from the summer heat. Steve swallowed back the loudest moans and Bucky felt himself pushing closer and closer to the finish. He felt Steve attach shaky lips to his pectoral and sucked, kitten like and so heartbreakingly tender, leaving a deep mark that had him coming between them and soon enough he wailed out his own completion. Both panted heavily and Bucky felt sweaty and sticky with sweat and come but he didn't move, just staring into Steve's eyes with sorrow and love. Steve’s legs haven’t left their place around Bucky’s waist and Bucky clutched at his thighs, pressing hard enough to leave bruises.

Bucky wanted Steve to feel his hands for days, he wanted Steve to press on the bruises he left on his neck and thighs and shiver at the memory of Bucky's mouth and hands on him. Steve panted, cheeks red and chest a little wheezy with exertion but he couldn't think of a better picture to fall asleep to. Steve's arms reached up and wound around Bucky’s neck and he sighed with content.

“I love you,” Steve whispered in Bucky's ear and it had Bucky ducking his head in affection, his heart feeling so goddamn _warm_ and whole with Steve.

They shared a sweet, chaste kiss and if Bucky clung a little too tightly to Steve while they continued, Steve didn't complain.

In the morning, Bucky woke up with an aching hole in his heart and traced the placement of every mark on Steve's body, committing them to memory. Steve didn't wake up during his examination and for that Bucky was thankful. He pressed one last bitter kiss against Steve's lax lips, breathing in every word that he wished he could have said the night before and pushed every feeling of love and protection with his tongue, refusing to leave until he had. 

Leaving took longer than he expected and he was late enough to garner himself a firm scolding, but he couldn't in it in himself to care - his mind still focused on that last lingering image and peacefully asleep with Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> ON ANOTHER NOTE, cannot believe the amount of kudos this has earned these few year. Y'all unbelievable and I love you. <333333


End file.
